The fact we even got to see anyone on Friday, let alone someone that Patch actually was kind of pumped on was a miracle in itself. We had to work our parents very carefully, but eventually we won out and were successful in finagling out two and a half hours to go and check out Friday’s festivities. Daughn Gibson is who we saw first as we basically ran into the park, so excited to finally be in Union Park. I remember vividly my hands shaking as I purchased some CD’s. I was so hyped and running on so much adrenaline that I actually bought a CD from a band I had never heard before, something I rarely if ever do. But it didn’t matter one bit to me, because I was at Pitchfork. Back to the show though. Gibson had the kind of voice that if it was the 50’s, 10,000 girls would have been surrounding the stage screaming his name. With a mixture of greaser charm and swag oozing out of every orifice, his songs were very relaxed and new agey almost, but with the very thick layering of his Elvis like voice. He looked as relaxed as if he was at home, jokingly trying to seduce a woman. Except he was on a stage in front of probably about 300 people seducing all of them just as well. The songs had a lot of different kinds of elements to them including dreamy guitar riffs, penetrating electronic components and of course his suave voice. It was such a shocking contrast to how I started my pitchfork experience last year, but I enjoyed it all the same. Because as each song came on that I didn’t know the words to, I just kept thinking to myself, I am back. Back to probably the most magical place on earth.